Clipped
by Lavender Cat
Summary: Post-Predacons Rising. Knock Out has officially joined the winning team, washing his hands of any ties to the Decepticons. Too bad for him he finds a big, broken reminder of his past affiliations amongst the rubble of an abandoned base.
1. Clipped

The early morning sun made Cybertron gleam. Gazing upon his newly-restored home brought a warmth to Knock Out's spark, something he hadn't felt in quite some time. He waited outside the Nemesis, leaning against the hull by the loading bay, lost in the luster of the home world he never thought he'd see again.

The sentimental musings were almost enough to take his mind off the fact he was waiting for Smokescreen and Wheeljack for a retrieval mission. The very thought of having to deal with them for an entire drive to Kaon brought about the twinges of a headache, and he rubbed his face with a well-manicured hand, as he let out a small, frustrated groan.

The three of them had been tasked with raiding a base near Darkmount, where it was rumored Megatron had stored some of his energon supplies before Cybertron had gone dark. Right now, they could use all they could get, and since Knock Out was the only one among them with Decepticon intelligence, he'd be leading the way. All in all, it'd be a rather boring mission, if not for his traveling partners.

Smokescreen was mostly just annoying. The twerp may have matured considerably since the war came to a screeching halt, but he was still an excitable rookie. Any and all opportunities for action made him salivate and leap around excitedly like an earthen canine being promised walkies. Knock Out could handle him, maybe drown him out with thoughts of cruising that one European highway with no speed limit on Earth if he tried hard enough.

It was Wheeljack that concerned him. The Wrecker made no secret that, even though he'd fought alongside the Autobots when it mattered most, he didn't trust Knock Out any further than he could throw him. The past few days had brought many an angry glare and sneer from Wheeljack whenever Knock Out dared mar his vision, and even a not-so-mumbled comment about "filthy 'Cons", just loud enough so Knock Out could hear. Knock Out wasn't about to let the little gremlin bother him - he'd heard much worse personal digs over his lifetime - but part of that came from being able to avoid Wheeljack whenever he got snippy. Being in such close proximity to him for the better part of the day was not appealing. It was getting to the point where Smokescreen's incessant chatter about whatever was on his mind was looking like the pleasant alternative.

Not for the first time, Knock Out missed Breakdown. Having him here would have made the whole trip bearable at least, maybe even a little fun. The big lug was actually very good company, despite not being one for small talk. But then, Knock Out had always liked that about him, how he only said what he thought was important. Better than most, Breakdown understood the value of silence in a world constantly besieged by a symphony of death and gunfire.

Knock Out sighed and ran his hand down his face once more, steeling himself against the brief flicker of pain in his spark. He yanked his thoughts back to the upcoming mission, which really only succeeded in increasing the tiny, sharp pulses of his migraine. He took a deep breath. At least, when he got back, he could slip away for a nice polishing. That always managed to relax him when he was wound up. Just the thought of the slow, circular motions made the inklings of the headache drip away.

When he heard thudding footsteps descending from the platform, Knock Out braced himself for an ugly glare. He was instead greeted by a torso. It belonged to a much taller mech, most of that height coming from his massive red and blue shoulders. Ultra Magnus.

Knock Out's confusion and shock over seeing the commander there was evident as he said, "What's up, big blue?" The nickname made Magnus flinch a bit, but he didn't stop him. "Thought I was supposed to be saddled with the kid and Wheeljack today. Or did Wheeljack finally blow himself up with a grenade he forget he had?"

The small, quick smile was unexpected, but Knock Out didn't have time to analyze it before Ultra Magnus said, "There have been several signals for approaching spacecraft in the general orbit, both Decepticon and Autobot. Wheeljack and Smokescreen are now in charge of air control, while we sort them all out."

"Well, that's dandy," Knock Out said, pushing himself off to his feet and brushing off some invisible debris from his arms and chassis. "Looks like my day just freed up. And I was _so _looking forward to that retrieval mission today. Alas!"

"Actually," Magnus said, straightening himself, crossing his arms behind his back in his best military stance, "I will be escorting you on your mission. It is probably for the best, since my bed will allow us to transport any energon we find much more safely."

Knock Out huffed a bit. He supposed Ultra Magnus was an improvement over a jabbering scout and a crazy mech with swords that happened to hate him, but not by much. He and Knock Out had not said much to each other since they met, but Knock Out knew from Vehicon gossip and even from other Autobots that the officer was a humorless stick in the mud, and didn't like "fraternizing" with his troops all that much. At the very least, this was going to be a quiet mission. As long as the big bot didn't force him to call him "sir", Knock Out would most certainly be happy.

"Welp, I suppose we'd better head out then," Knock Out said, turning away from Magnus and walking a few paces away from the ship before transforming, playfully revving his engine. "We're burning daylight."

He heard Magnus transform behind him, and they wordlessly headed out.

* * *

Knock Out was right when he thought that they'd have a quiet, peaceful trip. Time and miles clicked by, and they barely spoke at all, except when Magnus asked him a few questions about their direction and or mentioned their ETA. It was starting to get to him. Sure, it was better than Smokescreen prattling on about nothing or Wheeljack's more hostile silence, but he would appreciate some conversation. They'd been driving for several cycles now, and he was even more bored than he thought possible. Even Breakdown occasionally offered some kind of commentary on the scenery when they had missions together.

He briefly contemplated doing a few doughnuts or something to perk things up a bit as Magnus accelerated a little to get closer to his side. When he felt the tension in the frame next to his, the thought of having a little fun on the way there was even more appealing. This was the closest Knock Out had ever been to Ultra Magnus, and he could tell the guy needed to loosen up. Magnus' struts were taut enough to snap at any moment, and Knock Out could feel the mech's rigidity, even in vehicle mode.

Now that Knock Out thought about it, he hadn't really seen Magnus interacting with the others all that much. True, he'd only been around for a few days, and for two of those days, Magnus had been in a Predacon-induced coma, but he didn't remember many visits for him while he was laid up. There had been a few at first, mostly from Smokescreen, but even those slowly came to a stop. When Magnus had finally come to, he'd only had Knock Out and Ratchet to greet him and fill him in on what had happened.

It'd been quite a bit to take in, and Magnus had been quiet the entire time. They'd both stalled when they got to the part that was still the most painful. Magnus' expression had not changed when he was told that he was commanding officer now that Optimus was gone. He'd simply nodded, and asked if he was free to leave, then done so, as stiff as he'd ever been.

Knock Out hadn't seen much of Magnus since that day. It didn't really strike him as unusual, since they worked too totally different, but equally demanding fields. Knock Out and Ratchet were busy getting medical files squirreled away and cleaning up the mess from the Predacon army. Magnus had an entire planet to get back in order. Knock Out supposed that he shouldn't be at all surprised by that rigidness Magnus projected - from what he'd gleaned, again from those ever-loose-lipped Vehicons , Magnus had had it rough, what with the loss of limbs and everything. The added responsibility of breathing life back into a struggling planet probably didn't make it easier.

Even so, all the rational reasons for a mech being tense and quiet seemed to slip to the background as thought, only briefly, that there was something…sad about the way Magnus carried himself. He couldn't describe it better than that.

"We should be reaching the base in a few hundred yards," Magnus stated stiffly, jostling Knock Out from his musings. Taking a quick look around, he did start recognizing some scenery in the war torn area. Ahead, loomed Darkmount, still imposing despite being abandoned and silent. Knock Out recalled being summoned there once, with many other medics and engineers, to discuss Megatron's plans for something he called a triple-changer. They all agreed it was madness, telling Megatron so, and, at the time, they'd thought the project scrapped. Really, it had just been handed over to Shockwave. Things like "the laws of creation" didn't seem to bother him as much as it did them.

They came upon the base soon after that. It was a ramshackle little building, possibly one of the earliest bases his former faction had ever created, back when it was little more than a civil rights movement. It was weathered and had an ominous feeling about it. Knock Out felt a chill go up his struts as he cursed himself for watching too many human horror films. They'd proved themselves to be a waste of time already, and there was certainly nothing from them lurking in that building.

At least, he hoped.

They transformed, and Magnus pulled a tracking device from his subspace. It beeped pleasantly, informing them that energon was nearby. Magnus looked down to his traveling companion, his face passive, and said, "If you would be so kind as to lead the way, doctor."

Knock Out gave a flippant shrug and walked ahead, Magnus' thudding footsteps falling in time behind his.

* * *

The inside of the base was no more inviting than the outside. Time had taken it's toll here. Beams and wires hung haphazardly from the ceiling or sprouted out of walls like deformed growths. Their footprints disturbed what could only be years worth of grime and dust. The smell of the place was the worst. Spilled energon permeated it, mixed with the stale, musty stench of the worn down, rusted machinery that had once made the place run like clockwork.

To put it colloquially, it gave Knock Out the heebie-jeebies.

Magnus seemed less phased, focused on the tracker in his hand. Said device had stopped beeping so frequently, only doing so on the off-chance Magnus turned in a random direction. Even now, Knock Out could feel that tension lingering in the commander's frame. Was he afraid?

Magnus turned to his left, and the beeping stopped altogether. The tracker had lost it's signal. A scowl passed over Magnus' face, and he said, "It appears that there is less energon here than we first speculated"

"Either that," Knock Out said, looking up at the hanging wires, hoping to Primus he wouldn't see any body parts strewn among them, "or something here is interfering with the signal on your little gadget." He spied a familiar box on the wall, and pointed it out to Magnus. "That's a dampening field generator. Shockwave developed them to short-out tracing and tracking equipment so this base couldn't be found. It's a low-tech version of the one on the Nemesis. Handy for messing with little devices like that one." He tapped the tracker in Magnus' hand with a perfectly manicured claw, before adding, "If there is any energon in here, we're gonna have to find it ourselves. And here I was so looking forward to avoiding real work…"

Magnus did not acknowledge the joke, sliding the now-useless tracker back into his subspace. "In that case," he said, "we shall have to split up.

_First rule of surviving of a horror movie: never go off alone. _Knock Out refrained from giving out his little nugget of wisdom as Magnus continued.

"Does this dampening field block comm signals as well?"

"It shouldn't if they're within the base," Knock Out replied. "So if we find anything or run into anything…less than pleasant, we should be able to get ahold of each other."

Magnus nodded. "Then I will take the left corridors, doctor, You take the right. Comm me if and when you find anything."

Knock Out merely gave a two-fingered salute, before Magnus turned on his heels and made his way down the left corridor. Knock Out was left alone. He fixed his gaze on the dark corridors that had been assigned to him. As he flicked on his headlights and walked into the pitch black, he wished more than ever for Breakdown to be here. At least it would have given him someone to trip when the zombies started chasing him.

* * *

As it turned out, the rest of the base was just as bad as the entrance, with the added luxury of darkness absolutely everywhere. Knock Out continued down what could only be described as the longest creepy, dark hall in history, his headlights only bright enough to illuminate a few feet in front of him at a time. He'd passed several rooms already, but most of them appeared to be soldiers quarters, nothing where you would keep a stash of energon.

So Knock Out's search continued, despite the loud, thumping protest of his racing spark.

Soon, the barracks stopped. Now, he passed a conference room, and it became clear that the base had been abandoned in a hurry. The room was filled with overturned chairs and data pads still strewn about the tables and floors, their screens shattered from being dropped by fleeing officers. Knock Out briefly wondered what had lead to their sudden departure. Autobots getting the drop on them? Air raid? Maybe a rogue Insecticon had managed to break in an maul a few people, and now wandered the halls, hungry for more hapless bots to feed on…

Knock Out shook his head, internally chiding himself. He swore up and down that, when this ridiculous mission was over and they were back on the Nemesis, he was deleting every horror movie on his personal entertainment data pad. They turned him into a simpering ninny.

A soft groan interrupted his thoughts.

Knock Out froze. For a brief moment, he prayed to Primus that he'd actually heard something else. The wind shifting some loose support beams, or maybe the ancient floor creaking under his weight. But even as he stood, still as a corpse there in the dark, the groan echoed out again, louder than before. It was full of pain, and very weak. It was the groan of a mech near death. Knock Out knew that, as a medic, he should go identify the source and tend to whoever needed his assistance. As a mech who valued his own life, though, he thought it far more prudent to just transform, peal out of this Primus-forsaken place, and never look back.

Suddenly, a rattling cough ripped through the darkness like a hungry maw, making Knock Out jump. It kept going, a cacophony caused by struggling intakes, very much broken, from the sound of them. And the strangest thing was that Knock Out recognized that cough. The more he tried to tell himself it couldn't possibly be true, the more familiar the gasping and retching noises became. As they finally subsided, leaving only a wheezing noise in their place, Knock Out started running toward the sound.

His eyes were finally adjusting to the dimness, and he realized he was running out of dark, creepy hallway. Just when he thought that maybe there really had been something hiding in the barracks that had been watching him this entire time, the outline of the bottom of a medical berth came into view in the beam of his headlights. The wheezing noise was tapering off slightly, as whoever made it grew weaker from the strain, but he could tell it was close by. There wasn't much time left.

Knock Out began scanning his headlights over every inch of the forgotten medbay. The grotesque scenery did not bother him now. There was only that wheezing sound.

And then his headlights landed on a single gray foot, almost crushed flat, heel thruster charred black from where it had tried to roar to life and take flight. His headlights ran up two lithe gray legs. Both were broken at the knee joint, covered in various scars and scratches. The damage was only worse as he went further up, inspected the spindly arms, one dangling dangerously by some frayed wires that occasionally sparked pathetically. The torso was covered in dents, caused by blows from massive fists, and he saw the corners of the plating over the spark curled in. Someone had tried to rip it off. One of the delicate wings was dented so badly it was painful to look at. The other simply had the entire top half torn off, messily so, the tear jagged and crusted with energon. The worst part was the face. One side of the face was practically torn off, revealing the gruesome infrastructure of the jaw. The optic on that side was shattered, the glass within completely gone, showing only a flickering red dot that focused on nothing.

All in all, Starscream had seen better days. Knock Out's own dark humor made him shudder.

He tentatively stepped forward, thinking that maybe that coughing fit had been nothing more than a death rattle, and any minute, that light in the seeker's optic would flicker out. Half-thinking, Knock Out pulled out his medical scanner from his subspace. As he got close enough to Starscream to touch him, he kneeled down and held it out, slowly moving it over the broken body in front of him. He knew there was very little chance that, even if Starscream was alive, there would be much that Knock Out could do for him. He pressed on though, driven by a force he did not recognize, but also did not question. There was just something inside of him telling him he at least had to try.

In the words of the humans, it was the damndest thing really. Finally getting fed up with Starscream's poor treatment of him was why Knock Out was with the Autobots at all. This was the mech who'd thrown him under Megatron's heel when their little dark energon project blew up in their faces. The mech who only wanted him around as long as he was providing something useful, then expected him to keep his mouth shut at all other times, like some kind of mindless drone. And here Knock Out was, wasting his precious time and energy seeing if he could save the poor fragger's life. Maybe all this time around the goody-good Autobots was starting to soften him a little.

The scanner blipped, and to Knock Out's ever-lasting amazement, when he pulled himself from his thoughts and looked at the results, he was shocked that Starscream still had enough energon in his system to enter stasis lock. If that had happened, his body would have used less of its reserves to keep him awake, keep his mind going. All it needed was to make sure his spark continued to beat while it fixed the worst of his injuries. The fact that Starscream was still holding on like that, despite having injuries that should have caused him to bleed out within hours of getting them, gave Knock Out a sliver of hope. It wasn't much, but it was something. Looks like Starscream really had taken something away from all those thumpings he got from Megatron - the ability to persevere.

Knock Out shuddered again. He really needed to find another coping mechanism aside from all this dark humor. It made him sound horrifically morbid.

Another wheeze caught Knock Out's attention and when he looked up from his scanner, he was a tad bit creeped out to find that red dot staring directly at him. Knock Out bit back a cry of surprise as he tried to reign in his fear. He reminded himself that he'd seen much worse in his time as a field medic. This was no different.

Oh, but it was so different. The cold grip around his spark told him so. He couldn't place why, but this was so much different than any time he tended a bot on the battlefield. Or patched up the empty socket where Breakdown's eye used to be. Or even fixed up Starscream in the many times he'd had the slag beaten out of him by their lord and master. It was as different as night from day.

When Starscream tried to speak, it cut through the silence like a dagger, even though it was just a gutteral, "Nnnngh." Knock Out even thought he saw the seeker trying to move his head, possibly realizing his damaged eye was less than pleasant to have staring at you.

Knock Out reached out and set a hand on Starscream's. His uncharacteristic tenderness shocked him only for a moment. "It's alright, Starscream," he said, his smooth voice as soft and gentle as a carrier to its newspark. "Don't try to move or speak. You're in a bad way. I'll get you some help, alright. Just try to stay awake. Focus on me, okay?"

Starscream slowly blinked his good eye. Knock Out took that to mean yes. He didn't move his hand as he opened Magnus' comm channel.

_Yes, doctor. What did you find, _came the crisp voice at the other end.

"I think I found where all those energon signals were coming from," Knock Out said, "but it wasn't from any secret stash."

_Elaborate._

"I found Starscream," was Knock Out's only reply. He knew Magnus could hear the worry in his voice, but he didn't care.

After a few seconds of silence, Magnus asked, _What is his status?_

"He's alive, but just barely. We're at the end of the left corridor. In the medbay. It's a big open area at the very end."

_I shall be there momentarily. Magnus out. _And the comm was cut. The silence would have been all consuming if it hadn't been for Starscream's wheezing. At least that meant the mech was still alive, for now. And so, Knock Out waited, never once moving his hand from Starscream's.

* * *

Knock Out looked up to Magnus as the bot's large feet came into view at his side. That tension was still there. He briefly wondered how the commander kept himself from breaking completely, as tightly wound as he always seemed to be.

"Is he…" Magnus asked, but Knock Out cut him off.

"He's still functioning, but he's hanging by a thread. He needs medical treatment, now." He could tell that the sudden sternness in his voice was a shock to Magnus. No one was ever prepared when Knock Out pulled his authority voice. Very few believed that he had one. Knock Out curtly continued, "We're definitely going to need a ground bridge. He won't survive the drive back."

That seemed to get Magnus going. "Understood," he said. He activated his comm and said, with a hint of urgency, "Ratchet, please open the ground bridge, and prepare the medbay. We have a prisoner, and he is in…very poor condition."

Knock Out couldn't hear Ratchet's side of the conversation, but he knew that the old medic wouldn't be happy about what they brought to his doorstep. None of the Autobots held any love for Starscream, and it'd be a fight to get them to help. But he just kept reminding himself that he had to try.

It was then he noticed that Starscream had managed to turn his head the rest of the way, and that his good eye was intently focused on him. He was probably using all of the strength he had left to do that, and the look was so full of confusion, even a slight bit of suspicion.

All Knock Out could do was give the broken hand another squeeze, hoping Starscream would take some comfort from it.

The ground bridge opened behind them seconds later. Magnus walked back over to them, and bent down to scoop the seeker up in his arms. Knock Out could hardly hope to support Starscream, let alone drag him through the ground bridge, so he didn't complain, even as he saw the battered gray form tense. The wing that was still whole attempted to fold against Starscream's back. Knock Out had seen him do that many times in the past. It was a defense mechanism, an attempt to hide the most sensitive part of his body from the savage blows he knew were coming.

Starscream's good eye remained focused on Knock Out the entire way through the ground bridge. There was little more he could do but offer the seeker a reassuring smile.


	2. Fractured

"Absolutely not. Under no circumstances." Ratchet folded his arms over his chest. "It was bad enough having to coming patch up his aft for intelligence. You think I'm going to degrade myself, helping Starscream of all bots, for _free_?"

Knock Out didn't comment on how he had always known there was no way Starscream could have kept himself that safe while he was out on his own without someone patching him up. He knew the comment would only agitate Ratchet more, and that was something he didn't need right now.

Really, he'd expected this kind of reaction from the crotchety old medic. The minute that Magnus came through the space bridge, carrying the broken seeker in his arms, Ratchet had flipped out, asking Knock Out if this was some kind of joke. When Knock Out assured him that, no, he was indeed very serious, and instructed Magnus to set Starscream on an empty berth, Ratchet had been shocked. Once Knock Out asked for his help, then Ratchet went right back into curmudgeon-mode.

"If I recall correctly, this is the same bot you betrayed to join us," Ratchet said, as Knock Out hooked a life support tube to Starscream's chest. He'd finally had to put the seeker into medically-induced stasis lock, so he now slumbered somewhat peacefully, Knock Out's hands moving in a flurry above him.

"What's your point?" Knock Out asked as he secured the tube with the clamps at the end.

"My point is that you owe him nothing," Ratchet replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You said so yourself."

Knock Out's hands stilled for a moment. He recalled quite vividly what he'd said when he finally turned on Starscream. _Even if I had helped him seize this ship, he probably would have pushed me out of the first airlock._ He quickly started working again. There wasn't any time for him to start ruminating on what had been done.

Ratchet continued, "You know that if your positions had been reversed, he would have gladly left you to die if it meant saving his own plating."

"I know," Knock Out said simply. Oh, he knew.

He secured another tube, this one near Starscream's right shoulder. There was a large tear there that Knock Out hadn't noticed in the gloom of the abandoned base. The tube would supply energon to Starscream's depleted systems as well as keep various dirt and grime out of the hole until he could patch it. He'd have to go digging for some suitable scrap metal later, maybe even try to figure out what he was going to do about that bum wing.

Ratchet seemed to read his thoughts. "You don't honestly think that Magnus is going to let you waste valuable scrap metal on him, do you?"

The thought had crossed Knock Out's mind, and the truth of it was pretty overwhelming. He knew that Ratchet wasn't the only one not happy about this. Word had spread quickly of Starscream being back on the Nemesis, and they'd had their fair share of gawkers in the last hour or so. Everyone, from nosy Vehicon grunts to Acree and Bulkhead, who only wanted to shoot nasty looks at the broken bot on the berth, had been in to confirm it.

So far, Magnus had been fairly quiet on the subject of Starscream's fate. He hadn't objected when Knock Out ordered him to set Starscream down on a berth so he could begin repairs. And surely he wouldn't have even bothered to bring Starscream here at all unless he wanted to let Knock Out help him. Right? Unless he just wanted Starscream alive to throw him in the brig on war crimes. Come to think of it, that was probably the most logical course of action.

"Honestly, Knock Out," Ratchet said, his tone gaining a strange, gentle tone to it. He almost sounded like he was trying to be fatherly. "What do you have to gain by helping him anyway?"

The question pierced him, and he was once again glad he wasn't facing Ratchet head on, so the older medic wouldn't see the minute crack in his determinedly set features. Still, Knock Out squared his shoulders and said crisply, "Frankly, I don't care what Magnus will or won't allow me to do. I'm going to repair Starscream, whether he or anyone else likes it or not. Now, if you're not going to do anything useful, then get out of my medbay."

"_Your_ medbay," Ratchet said incredulously. "Need I remind you that I'm a medic too?"

"It was my medbay before you ever showed up, gramps," Knock Out snapped, finally turning his attention from Starscream to shoot Ratchet a venomous gaze. "Now, out!"

Ratchet seemed taken aback by the sudden snippiness, but evidently decided it was no longer worth arguing about. He just gave a "humph" and walked out. Knock Out knew he could very well go tattling to Magnus about how the rude little Decepticon mouthed off to him and was wasting valuable resources on a war criminal, but at the moment, he didn't care. He just continued hooking up the last of the life support tubes, annoyance guiding his hand.

For now, he wouldn't worry about Ratchet or Ultra Magnus or any other bot on this ship that wasn't the one in front of him. The one that needed him right now, because he didn't have anyone else. He picked up his soldering iron, the white hot tip glowing, preparing to seal the smaller cuts peppered about Starscream's frame.

Ratchet had asked him what he had to gain helping Starscream, and really, Knock Out couldn't rightly say.

* * *

When Knock Out heard the familiar footfalls of Ultra Magnus hours later, he just knew that he was in trouble.

He was sitting at his work bench, several bits of scrap piled by his feet. He worked his buzz saw down the side of a larger sheet, cutting off the excess to toss aside. After sealing all the wounds that he could with his soldering iron, he'd decided that Starscream was getting a steady enough supply of energon to be left for a while. Just in case, he'd managed to convince a passing Vehicon to watch over the prone seeker while he was gone. He distrusted the other Autobots just enough to think they'd try something if they got the chance.

He'd made several trips to the storage area where the Decepticons had kept their scrap and spare parts. It'd taken a few hours to find all the pieces he needed and enough metal to maybe fashion a replacement for the wing. He'd started working on that first, thinking that, if he got the most daunting project out of the way, the rest would feel like a breeze. Plus, if he got the wing done, he wouldn't have to worry about flight withdrawal when Starscream eventually came out of stasis.

For winged Cybertronians, flight was as basic an instinct as drawing breath. They needed to fly, and if they ever lost that ability, the medics needed to work fast to restore it. If they didn't, the flier could be beset by any number of problems - physical things like fever, chills, and purging, to mental things like hallucinations, intense anger, and even full-blown psychotic episodes. Rare cases showed them just resigning themselves to a corner and not coming out for anything, which led to recharge and energon deprivation. All of these symptoms were completely inexplicable. No science had ever explained why they happened, and the only known cure was to mend the wing and restore flight. And Primus help you if that couldn't be accomplished.

A broken wing like this could almost be viewed as a death sentence during the war, because scrap metal, even what was cannibalized from the dead, was scarce. Most of the time, the crippled fliers were just put out of their misery quickly and efficiently, so they wouldn't have to waste away, slowly and painfully.

Knock Out shuddered to remember all the unfortunate fliers he'd seen during the war. Some were lucky and had their wings repaired. Most were not.

He'd shaken his head and turned up the power on his saw to drive the sudden flashes of shrieking fliers and single blaster shots from his mind. But neither of those things had drowned out the sound of Ultra Magnus entering the medbay.

Knock Out was sure that the commander would tell him to take all the scrap and parts back, and never even think about going back there again. In fact, he would probably be stripped of his post, most likely at the behest of Ratchet, because he was obstinate and disrespectful and, really, how could you trust a former Decepticon who wanted to help the worst Decepticon of them all?

He let the saw whine to a stop as the footsteps ceased, and he let it change back to a hand. Now, the only sound within the medbay was the steady beeping of a life support machine. Gently, he set the metal sheet on the work table, still warm from the friction caused by the saw. The schematics for a sleek seeker wing were pulled up on the computer screen in front of him. He thought about turning it off, just knowing that it wasn't going to see any use. Knock Out inhaled deeply, and turned to Magnus to face the music.

When he did, though, he was a bit perplexed to find Magnus' attention not on him. Instead, the commander looked past him, over his shoulder, at the schematic. Knock Out wondered if the military mech even really comprehended what he was looking at. Maybe, if he didn't, he wouldn't think Knock Out was working on replacing Starscream's wing and he'd be left to work in peace.

"How long do you think it will take to fashion this replacement wing, doctor?"

Well, frag. He supposed there was always begging.

Knock Out tried to project an air of casual ambivalence. "It all depends," he said, flicking his wrist. "I think I've got enough scrap to construct something about the same size as Screamer's old one, but when it comes to wings, it's really all about width and shape. If I don't have the right amount of metal to mold into the wing and create an exact replica of the one that's intact, it'll throw him off balance when he flies." Knock Out felt his mouth twitch into an earnest smile as he added, "And goodness knows that Starscream would pitch such a fit if he couldn't show off what a dandy flier he was."

To his ever-lasting shock and amazement, Ultra Magnus also smiled at the quip. It was an oddly pleasing sight. Knock Out noticed that smile bring about, for the first time since he'd met Magnus, a loss of the ever-present tension in his frame, as if the smile was letting it all bleed out.

Ultra Magnus' tone was even light and airy as he told Knock Out, "Then I wish you luck in your endeavors."

Knock Out couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You mean…you're going to let me fix him? You're going to let me fix Starscream?"

Magnus simply nodded.

"But what about the others," Knock Out asked. "Surely, they're not happy about this. I mean, Ratchet alone…"

Magnus interrupted, saying, "Ratchet is the reason I'm here now. He told me about your… "fool's errand", I believe he called it, and accused you of wasting precious scrap on someone who didn't deserve it. I decided to investigate his claims myself."

Knock Out snorted, "I knew that old clunker would go squealing to you. Honestly, some people are far too sensitive when it comes to comments about their age."

The corner of Magnus' mouth twitched again, and Knock Out realized he was trying not to laugh. He had succeeded in saying something Ultra Magnus of all bots thought was funny. He almost wished Soundwave were still around and operating the multitude of cameras aboard this ship. Without that proof, no one was ever going to believe this.

After Magnus had composed himself, he said, "Although I do not commend the disrespect towards a senior officer, I do find that your efforts are not as big a waste as Ratchet or any other bot on this vessel would like me to believe. I am well aware that Starscream has done many abhorrent things, things for which other bots desire recompense. But I am not interested in sating any vengeances, doctor."

Knock Out smiled, possibly one of the most sincere of his entire life. "Thank you, Magnus," he said. After a moment, he added, "Sir." He thought this time, the commander deserved the title.

Magnus returned the smile. Knock Out ruminated, for a brief moment, that he looked so much better now. The sadness he carried himself with seemed to be gone entirely, and it did him a world of good.

Knock Out returned to his work bench and picked the metal sheet back up. Really, looking at it in comparison to the schematic, he didn't have that much far to go to get it in to the right parameters. He felt Magnus' presence move in closer to the screen, studying the picture of the wing and the measurements specific to Starscream on them.

"I'm actually pretty close to getting it the right size," Knock Out explained. He saw Magnus give him a sidelong glance. "Just a few more cuts, and it should be done. The excess will probably come in handy in shaping it. It'll get a bit tougher from there, since I'll have to cut as I go to make sure it's the same thickness."

"When do you think Starscream will emerge from stasis?"

Knock Out shrugged and answered casually, "Whenever his body thinks it has enough energon to regain consciousness. That's how stasis lock works. Your body shuts down so systems unnecessary to healing don't use what little fuel you have left. All that's left going is your pump and your processor. Handy failsafe, as long as you've got a way to refuel once it happens."

"Will he require any further bedrest after he emerges from stasis?"

"Hopefully, not too much. I'm hoping to get the wing finished before then. They're such sensitive appendages that reattaching one while a seeker is awake is like trying to give an Earth feline a bath."

"A what?" Knock Out looked over to Magnus, who was now looking at him with immense confusion.

"What 'what'? The felines or the bath?" Knock Out tried to keep the mirth from his voice. It didn't exactly work.

"…both," Magnus answered. Was that _shyness_ in his voice? "I'm afraid that I'm a bit uneducated about Earth humor. I still have yet to find out what a 'kilt' is."

This time, Knock Out couldn't help but laugh. "Well, when we both have a free hour," he said, changing his hand back to a buzz saw, "remind me to pull up some videos I have about earth felines. The humans practically worship them. Personally, I wouldn't mind coexisting with a species that spends all day recharging and grooming itself. I can certainly relate."

Ultra Magnus let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Knock Out had to admit to himself that it was a pleasant sound. He wondered if anyone else had ever managed to make him laugh so spontaneously like that.

"In relation to my earlier question, doctor," Magnus continued, "if you're planning on attaching the wings before Starscream awakens from stasis, will you performing any other operations along with them?"

"Well, from what I can tell, he mostly just needs patches, and a few joints replaced. There's actually a lot less internal damage than I thought, , if you can believe it from the state he was in. Just some tears here or there that should heal on their own. Depending on when he wakes up, those minor things might keep him on the berth for a few days to heal properly."

Magnus gave a nod. "I'll have the Vehicons prepare the brig as soon as you give the word, doctor."

Knock Out froze, and turned his head towards Magnus again. "What do you mean, prepare the brig?"

"For Starscream," Magnus replied. "He'll be a great asset for us as we welcome refugees back to Cybertron. The intelligence we can glean from him will be most useful in finding any other Decepticon war criminals."

Knock Out set the metal down again, a little more forcefully than he meant to. It hit the workbench with a loud clang, jostling tools and spooking Magnus enough to make him back away. Knock Out struggled to keep an even tone as he asked, "Are you telling me the only reason I'm being allowed to repair Starscream is so you can lock him up and use him for locking up more people?"

Ultra Magnus raised his hand and hook in a placating gesture, and said, "Knock Out, please try to understand this from a military standpoint. Decepticons are currently back in Cybertron's orbit. Decepticons who, unlike you, have not heard of Megatron dissolving their faction or that the war has effectively ended. Shockwave is still at large, with three Predacons at his disposal. Starscream is currently the only one with the information to keep these forces at bay."

Anger that Knock Out didn't fully understand surged through him. He knew that Ultra Magnus was right. Starscream did have information that no other Decepticon did. He knew things about the inner workings of the ranks that was usually only reserved for Megatron himself. Any special forces or secret plans that Megatron had, Starscream had typically been privy to that information as second in command. And then there was the matter that Ratchet had reminded him of, and that kept plaguing Knock Out's own thoughts - the only reason Knock Out was even here was because he betrayed Starscream. Why would he care how Starscream was treated by the side he now considered himself a part of? Especially after everything he'd been through at the seeker's hand. True, Starscream was in a pretty poor condition right now, but that didn't excuse anything. A few nasty wounds didn't erase a lifetime of carnage. Starscream deserved to be thrown in the brig, hard knocks or not. The fact did little to help the rising rage.

Acid dripped from his words as he asked, "And what exactly were you planning on doing if these big, bad Decepticons came back and you didn't have Starscream to feed you intel?"

Magnus tried to hide his shame as he said, "They would have been incarcerated, and then interrogated for their intelligence. Knock Out, they would have been war criminals. They helped perpetuate slaughter and genocide. There was no way they could just be allowed to roam free."

"And if they didn't cough up what they knew, what would you do then? Torture them?"

"Of course not," Magnus said defensively. "I told you, this is not a mission of vengeance."

"Maybe not for you, Magnus," Knock Out said, jabbing a claw in the commander's direction, "but think about how many of your shiny, upstanding Autobots have more than enough reason to indulge their own bloodlust. Arcee has already tried to kill Starscream once, and there's the mound of angst she's got going with Airachnid. The only thing keeping Wheeljack from skewering me is you telling him he can't, and Bulkhead's one temper tantrum away from jumping in and joining him. Smokescreen almost makes a game out of slagging Vehicons! Do you honestly think that, if you locked them in a room with a defiant Decepticon, they wouldn't give in?"

Magnus did not reply. For another few minutes, the beeping of the life support machines was the only thing that broke the hostile silence.

Knock Out huffed and grumbled, "Yeah, that's exactly what I thought."

He knew he should stop. If his intention had been to beg and plead with Ultra Magnus to reconsider his stance, he was doing a piss poor job of it. But there was just something about the way Magnus wouldn't look him in the eye that made that anger surge through him harder, made him want to tear away at all the Autobot hypocrisy that he was just so damn tired of.

"After all," he added, "what would Optimus say in a situation like this? 'Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Unless you really don't like them, then just frag that freedom tripe.'"

If Knock Out had been in a clearer state of mind, he would have sworn he saw a quick flash of hurt mar the commander's features. In a clearer state of mind, and taking into account how chummy they'd been getting in the past few minutes, he would have stopped the verbal onslaught, apologized, blamed his nerves, explained himself, maybe even begged forgiveness for being such an aft. But he wasn't in a clearer state of mind. He didn't even bother giving Magnus the chance to defend himself.

As soon as the commander opened his mouth, the pain in his eyes evident, Knock Out said, "No. You've said quite enough. Now, get out. I'll repair Starscream. I'll repair him so you can lock him up to help you land everything right back where this mess of a war started. Just. Get. Out."

Magnus' massive shoulders slumped. He was silent as he turned and left the medbay, and Knock Out could see the rigidness slowly creep back into his frame. He didn't care right now. Magnus could deal with it himself. He could suck lugnuts for all he cared.

Knock Out stomped back over to his workbench, and grabbed the metal sheet up in his hands again. He squeezed it hard, like he was trying to strangle it, even though he'd never leave so much as a scratch in the thick sheet. After a few minutes of just standing there, with a stranglehold on this hunk of scrap, his hands began to tremble, and Knock Out let it fall from his grip, and gave a quiet, frustrated cry.

In the silence that followed, over the beeping of the machines and the pounding of his spark in his ears, he heard a tiny sound. It was a rasp, a breath of air, but it was unmistakable, as shocked as he was to hear it.

"Knock Out," Starscream called weakly from the berth.


	3. Grounded

Knock Out was at Starscream's side faster than he thought he was capable of moving. The seeker's eyes were only open in narrow slits, but they were open nonetheless. Knock Out had never seen any bot awaken from stasis lock quite that quickly. Looks like Starscream's ability to endure hadn't just been dark humor.

Starscream began struggling to sit up, and even the minimal amount of effort that took made his whole body shake. He was alive, but his body was probably burning with pain from his various injuries. Knock Out put a reassuring hand on the seeker's chest, gently pushing him back on to the berth. "Easy now, Starscream," he said, the softness from when he first found the seeker in the base returning. "You're safe. I'll take care of you."

Despite being in a caring profession, Knock Out had never really been what most would consider "caring". He'd never had much for bedside manner. He did his job, and that was the end of it. He knew he had a reputation among the Vehicons for being a quack, a slop artist who didn't give two frags about his patient's comfort or wellbeing. He only cared about their recovery process because, if they moved around too much, they'd undo all his hard work. Really, it was the one measure of practicality he took in his life. There was just no time for compassion, he'd discovered, when there was a line of broken bots waiting for you to piece them back together, just so they could be sent back out and broken again.

It was why he was so confused by why whatever latent protocol within him that was responsible for his empathy was just _now_ starting to kick in. It was such an alien sensation, so foreign. He felt almost like a fraud, handling Starscream like he was a sparkling, being tended to by a parent.

Evidently, Starscream found it just as disconcerting. He stared up at Knock Out for a few minutes after he collapsed back on the berth, a trickle of the former scrutiny with which the seeker observed everything around him poking through and boring into Knock Out's head. It slipped away quickly though, and Starscream let his head lull to the side. Holding it up was apparently too much strain.

Starscream shuttered his optics - Knock Out had replaced the glass in the shattered one - and mumbled, his words slightly slurred because of his broken jaw, "Must be dead. Knock Out's never this nice."

Knock Out had to bite back a chuckle. Leave it to Starscream to have a flair for the dramatic, even when he'd just been pulled back from the edge of death. "'Fraid not, Screamer," he said. "You are indeed among the living."

Starscream didn't seem to be listening to him. He still mumbled softly, disjointedly. "Can't be," he wheezed. "It lasted so long, didn't it? I must be dead."

"What lasted so long, Starscream?"

"They were so angry," Starscream went on, his optics opening a fraction, staring off into a dark corner of the medbay. His words drifted out of his mouth like wisps of the wind. "So angry. Told me they were there to settle scores. I suppose I have paid in full."

Knock Out gently cupped Starscream's cheek, and turned the seeker to face him. The red optics, which Knock Out remembered as being full of fire, scheming, burning fire, were dull and empty. They looked through him. He told himself it was the pain making Starscream talk this way, ignoring the part of him that knew otherwise. Knew that not only Starscream's body had been broken by whatever happened to him. "Starscream," he said, his voice low, "who's they?"

"The beasts came and found me," Starscream mumbled. Knock Out knew who that meant - Predaking, and probably the two goons he had with him during the Unicron situation. He knew Predaking had no love for any Decepticons in his spark after what happened with Project Predacon, but he really thought most of his rage was reserved for Megatron. Perhaps now that their mighty liege was out of reach, he went after the second-easiest target?

Starscream wheezed a little, and pulled Knock Out's attention back to him. "Rejoining the All-Spark hurts," he mumbled, seemingly to no one in particular. "Wish the beasts had been quicker about it. Said they wanted me to suffer." Starscream's optics shuttered again, tighter this time, as if they were trying to block out the recollections. He started shaking. "I still feel them…"

Starscream's tone quavered as he took in a sharp breath of air, and it hit Knock Out directly in the spark. He'd heard Starscream beg and plead Megatron before. After some colossal foul-up, he was always on his knees, imploring their lord for another chance to prove himself, to show that he really was a loyal Decepticon soldier. But it never sounded like this. With those four words, Knock Out heard pitiful whimpers and the coming of tears. He heard desperate cries of pain and pleas for mercy that had been ripped out of his vocalizer by savage claws that tore wings to shreds.

He continued to amaze himself as he took Starscream's clawed hand in his own, and said, "It's alright, Starscream. You're here. That's all over now. Rest now." He repeated it over and over until the shaking subsided.

Starscream opened his eyes for a moment when it did, but they immediately fluttered closed once more. The energy he had was spent. The beeping of the life support machine was, once again, the only thing to break the silence. Knock Out was beginning to hate it with every fiber of his being.

When Starscream slipped back into unconsciousness, Knock Out didn't move to let go of his hand right away. Didn't try to move away. He doubted if he could. The proud seeker that he found simultaneously an acquaintance to banter with and a frustrating annoyance was beaten beyond recognition, inside and out.

Despite all the beatings Knock Out had seen Starscream go through, from foe and ally alike, they'd never broken him. Knock Out could commend him on his ability to just keep getting back up, go right back to scheming and plotting and maybe throwing in some colorful revenge for this new humiliation. No matter how much dirt and rocks you heaped on him, Starscream's fire continued to burn. But the Predacons had been like a bucket of cold water. They'd doused him completely. Knock Out had never felt such pity in his entire existence.

The sound of metal scraping metal rang out above the life support machine, just outside the medbay doors, and startled him out of his thoughts. Reluctantly releasing Starscream's hand, Knock Out sat up, and went over to the doors, and they slid open to reveal a Vehicon staring up him. From the hunched over way he looked up at Knock Out, it was clear he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

Rage boiled within Knock Out. He figured that Magnus would do something like this, send a hapless soldier to come do his dirty work now that he knew Knock Out was working against him. His gaze must have reflected that rage, because the Vehicon let out a quiet squeak of fear, and tried to get to his feet. Knock Out immediately grabbed his arm, holding tight, and turned his other hand into his drill. "What's your serial number, drone?" He sounded like some sort of demon.

The Vehicon began stammering, unable to spit out the sequence. Knock Out rolled his eyes in disgust, and tossed the Vehicon away. "You're lucky that I'm feeling benevolent today. But if I catch you lurking about here again, this drill is going straight through your spark chamber. Understood?"

The Vehicon in his grasp nodded vigorously, and with that, Knock Out released his grip on his arm. The Vehicon stumbled as he moved away from Knock Out, nearly slamming himself into the wall behind him, panting hard from the fear clenching at his spark. As soon as he got his bearings, he took off down the hallway.

With the Vehicon out of sight, all the energy that burst of anger had lent him seemed to melt from Knock Out's frame. He felt so heavy, like he was dragging around a frame meant for a mech twice his size. A whirlwind of emotion swept through him, emotions he wasn't familiar with and couldn't control. He was almost shaking with the force of it.

He went back into the medbay, disgusted when himself when he started to sway from how exhausted he suddenly felt. What was he, some kind of squishy human femme in a fainting spell? He eventually made it to the chair at his work bench, and sat down heavily. He cast another glance over his shoulder at the unconscious seeker.

That Vehicon he chased away was probably a spy for Magnus. He'd probably heard the entire conversation that Knock Out and Starscream had. Which meant that Magnus would know now that Starscream was awake.

Knock Out could only wonder how much longer the seeker had left.

* * *

Knock Out massaged his neck cables as he made his way to the mess hall. He'd ended up falling asleep at his work bench, still whittling away at the wing replacement, and now his neck and head ached something fierce. At least he didn't feel so oppressively heavy anymore. His evening energon might help with the pain.

He'd been reluctant to leave Starscream's side for his ration, though. After everything with the spying Vehicon, he'd become much more paranoid about the Autobots and their endgame for the seeker. As the din of conversation increased in volume, Knock Out wondered when Magnus would finally decide to toss Starscream in the brig. Would he wait for the repairs to finish? Or would Arcee convince him that he didn't deserve the repairs, and that he just needed to be kept alive for the information he could provide? Thinking about the vengeful little two-wheeler made Knock Out see red for a moment, but he quickly reined it in, so he wouldn't stand out as he walked into the mess hall and to the energon dispenser.

The place was full, as usual. Near the front was a table full of nothing but Autobots - Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, and Ratchet all sat around two bots that Knock Out had never seen before. One was black and white, a grounder, with a blue visor covering his eyes, his doors spanned out behind him like a pair of cumbersome wings. The other shared the color scheme and the visor, only with a gray face, no door wings, and a giant grin. The one with the door wings sat stoically, primly sipping his energon, while the grinner told an animated story, mentioning something about a bot named Gears and something called the Ark.

As he watched the group, the stoic bot suddenly spotted him. Even though Knock Out couldn't see his eyes, he knew the bot was staring at him, analyzing him, scrutinizing him. Knock Out stared back, even though the cold gaze made him suppress a shudder. He wasn't about to let the mech know that he intimidated him.

After a few minutes, Knock Out broke the stare and continued on his way. He made a mental note to watch out for that guy.

He proceeded to the energon dispensers, passing a few tables full of Vehicons as he did. They were much quieter than he usually remembered, a few of them casting glances back over at the new Autobots. He knew a lot of them were happy with being out from under Megatron's thumb. They were no longer just cannon fodder, born to die for a cause they'd been told they believed in. But working under the people who used to slag you for fun wasn't exactly peachy keen either. Knock Out sighed and grabbed up his cube, starting to fill it with his nightly ration.

Then he noticed the one mech that sat by himself, surrounded neither by Vehicons or his own comrades - Ultra Magnus. The commander was staring down at a data pad he held, an untouched energon cube cupped in his claw. Knock Out quickly realized that he was just staring at it. His eyes didn't move in any indication that he was reading what was in front of him. He was pretending he was busy.

As if feeling the medic's eyes on him, Magnus looked up for a moment, locking eyes with Knock Out. Knock Out attempted to keep his face blank. He would not give Magnus any sort of clue about how angry he was that he was treating Starscream like some kind of tool to end a conflict. How afraid he was of the power he wielded because he was able to do that whenever he pleased.

Magnus was the one to look away this time, a flicker of shame evident on his face. Knock Out felt a disgust flare up in his tanks. He hoped it wouldn't put him off his energon. His head still hurt.

Clutching his cube close to his chest, Knock Out briskly headed for the door. He wanted to get back to the wing, and maybe start working on Starscream's jaw. As he left, he felt the prickly sensation of being watched. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw every single Autobot at the table near the door staring at him. He quickened his pace, and hurried out to the hall, the prickly feeling lingering on his struts.

* * *

As Knock Out left the medbay, a lone Vehicon dispersed the field of his energon cube, got up from the table where he sat with some friends, and walked briskly to follow the medic out of the mess hall. He tried to remain in the shadows, so he wouldn't be seen. The last time had gotten him a face full of angry red grounder, and even though he wasn't sure if Knock Out could even tell them apart with their visors on, he didn't want to risk another verbal mauling.

Better to remain hidden, if it meant he could be there for Starscream.

Just the thought of the air commander made his spark flutter in its chamber. He'd admired Starscream for he didn't know how long. Since he first laid eyes on him, he supposed. When he first saw the sleek wings, the long, slender legs, the elegant claws, the fiery optics, he'd lost himself completely. The commander was his star, the brightest in his tiny universe, and he adored him.

He'd always told himself nothing would come of it. If he didn't, the other Vehicons did. His star didn't see him. He was one of thousands of a disposable race. Outside of his serial number, he had no individuality. He was called a drone. He could be run through by an Autobot, blown up in the mines, or simply in the wrong place when a Decepticon officer was in a bad mood and felt like murdering something. If he died, Starscream wouldn't have cared.

But then he'd made it to the end of the war. At least the Autobots saying it was the end. No Vehicons had been wantonly slaughtered by the one they called Wheeljack recently, so he supposed that was a good starting point. Things were definitely looking up where he and his fellow Vehicons were concerned. Only those who refused to renounce the Decepticons were locked up in the brig, and any others who were willing to help with reconstruction efforts were given a chance at life. It was certainly preferable to living each day hoping you weren't gunned down or shot through.

He himself had been pretty okay with living amongst the Autobots. He knew that a lot of his comrades were still a little nervous about it, especially the soldiers and the miners. They had every right to be. He remembered hearing a bunk mate in the barracks whimpering in recharge, dreaming of the friend who'd been blown up when the Autobots raided a mine. The poor guy had to stare at the charred remains for hours before the survivors were safely dug out. He himself was friendly with a miner who'd been on the receiving end of a blowtorch to the face, courtesy of the Autobot's medic. The incident left him blind in that eye.

The permeating fear was indeed understandable.

But, so far, they'd been treated quite well. The one called Bulkhead actually seemed to be taking a shine to the group helping him with some construction work. Those Vehicons talked fondly of how nice the Wrecker was. He truly believed that things were looking up for him and his brothers.

Then he'd heard about Starscream being found. Rumors were a powerful tool amongst the Vehicons, always had been. If you knew something of interest that someone wanted to know, that could be used for favors, protection, just about anything you could want. When he'd heard about Knock Out and Ultra Magnus dragging a half-slagged Starscream back through the ground bridge after a retrieval mission, he'd given up his morning ration of energon to figure out what had happened to the air commander. As soon as the information was his, he'd rushed to the medbay, if only to get a glimpse at his beloved star.

Following Knock Out again through the halls of the Nemesis made his spark ache a bit. When he had gotten to the medbay that first time, he'd gotten one look at Starscream's horribly broken body and lost all nerve to be there beside him. The damage was brutal. He'd watched from the shadows like a coward while Knock Out fussed and fretted over his charge, working tirelessly to keep him from offlining for good.

And what had he himself done? Nothing. He watched someone else rescue his star. Then he sat idly by while Ultra Magnus told Knock Out that Starscream would only be saved to be used to capture more Decepticons. When Knock Out had finally discovered him hiding in the shadows and yelled at him, he knew he deserved it.

Of course, now he was here, following Knock Out back to the medbay to watch over his star once more. He just couldn't force himself to stop. Even though Starscream didn't even know he existed, he wanted to be there for him. He wanted to help Knock Out keep Starscream out of the brig. Even if no one else did, he would try to help protect his star. As much as he wanted the fighting to end, he didn't want it if this was the price that had to be paid.

They arrived at the medbay. Knock Out walked in, and the doors slid shut behind him. The Vehicon took his place in the shadows. Fortunately, the doors to the medbay were quite thin, and since it was so cavernous, it had excellent acoustics, and words bounced off the walls constantly. If you listened carefully, you could pick up almost entire conversations, no matter how hushed.

Which was why it certainly wasn't it certainly was difficult to hear a seeker coughing and hacking his way back into consciousness inside, and a pair of harried footsteps coming over to his side.

The Vehicon sat and listened.

* * *

Starscream's hacking echoed off the walls as Knock Out rushed to his side. Starscream had always had weak intakes, and was the only Cybertronian Knock Out knew with a coughing problem. With the state he was in right now, Knock Out really didn't expect the seeker to stay awake long after his little fit. Coughing with a broken jaw couldn't have been much fun anyway. All he could do for the moment was give Starscream's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

He was shocked when, as the coughs subsided, Starscream actually stayed online. The seeker cast a harsh look at him, and jerked his shoulder back, away from the gentle touch. "What do you think you're doing," the seeker snapped.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Knock Out replied, pulling his hand away like the harsh words burned him.

"I'm fine," Starscream muttered. He began testing his range of movement, which, since Knock Out had been expecting him to be in stasis lock for a lot longer, wasn't much. Something popped in his broken knee joint, and Starscream let out a squawk of pain, grabbing it with the hand on the unbroken arm. "Honestly, Knock Out," he spat, "are you so incompetent that you can't even fix a simple knee joint?"

Knock Out frowned, but he tried to keep his head. Starscream was in pain. Starscream had been through a lot. He had every right to be a bad patient. Still, he took a calming breath, swallowing the sarcastic quip he so wanted to fling at the bellyaching seeker. "Well, you came out of stasis much sooner than I expected," he said evenly. "Unless, of course, you want me to perform surgery on you while you're conscious. I do recall you being more than a bit squeamish around drills."

Well, nobody's perfect.

Starscream tried to puff himself up to be intimidating, but his wounds made that virtually impossible. "I am not in the mood for jokes, Knock Out. And to think I brought you to the Nemesis for your medical expertise. I have no idea what possessed me with such a notion."

Knock Out rolled his eyes. The whole "caring profession" part of him was started to wear thin now that Starscream was lucid. "Well, pardon me, Starscream," he said, "maybe you'd like me to call Ratchet back in here to patch you up. As I understand, he did that quite a bit during your adventures as an independent party. Maybe, if you're good, he'll even give you an energon goodie."

Starscream's glare could have melted through solid steel. Knock Out, like always, stood his ground. Any time Starscream thought he could intimidate him when they argued, he knew that it was just the seeker blowing exhaust. Starscream simply wasn't the type for all-out attack someone. He was more of the backstabbing type, who snuck up while you were vulnerable. Knock Out generally felt like he had nothing to fear from him.

Starscream snorted from the berth, and said, "It certainly would be a nice change of pace to have an actual physician tending to me instead of a hack obsessed with his finish. At least when that lumbering brute Breakdown was around, you had someone who could actually get a job done. Unless there were _humans_ involved, I suppose."

And with that comment, Knock Out was done with this "caring profession" slag.

"You know something, Starscream," he said, his tone low and dangerous, "I would think you'd have a bit more respect for the person who dragged your sorry aft back here instead of letting you die in an abandoned base. But then, after the way you treated me when our dabblings in the supernatural went awry, I really think I shouldn't be surprised."

"Are you still whining about that?" Starscream's tone was dismissive. He continued inspecting his knee injury, as if that were the most pressing thing in his life at this exact moment.

Knock Out's patience was starting to wear thin. "You threw me to Megatron's mercy. All because you didn't want to take responsibility for a catastrophe you created and forced me to go along with!"

"Do you ever use any sense," Starscream turned from his knee, and brought his burning gaze back to Knock Out. "Think for a moment. If Megatron had believed me about you being responsible for Cylas' creation, do you think he would have trounced his only medic?"

Any retort Knock Out had died on his tongue.

"I was disposable, doctor," Starscream said, his voice filled simultaneously with venom and regret. "I had been to Megatron for a very long time. What I did, I did to protect you as well as myself. You were valuable to him, and Megatron never wants to lose a valuable asset. So you lost privileges and had to report to that sycophant Shockwave. At least you walked away with your life. As did I. I saved us both a beating, especially since that winged abomination Predaking quickly stole our master's ire."

Knock Out didn't miss the way the seeker's uninjured wing tensed and attempted to curl up against his back at the mere mention of Predaking, but he was too shocked to say anything.

Starscream had done something for him, out of nothing but concern for his wellbeing.

_The_ Starscream. For whom lying, cheating, and backstabbing seemed to be in his very nature.

Starscream _cared_ about him.

He had no idea what to do with that information. Starscream had still put him through a mess of trouble, berating and abused him, nearly gotten him killed, and then just went right back to screaming in his face when it was all said and done. None of that went away just because Starscream had done one nice thing for him.

So why was this compassion and care for Starscream trickling back, making him want to take care of the poor fragger? It didn't make any sense to him.

He didn't have time to ruminate on it long. When he looked up at Starscream again, the seeker's face was contorted in shock. He was looking over Knock Out's shoulder, towards his work bench. Knock Out then realized he left the wing and the schematic in plain view, where Starscream could see it.

The seeker's hands immediately flew to his back, feeling where his wing should be. All they felt was the jagged edge where it had been ripped away from his body.

The keen that echoed in the medbay felt like a piece of glass being driven in Knock Out's spark. It was long and piercing and full of almost animalistic pain, none of which was physical.

The keening slowly became shallow, rapid breathing. Knock Out could see Starscream's chest rising and falling. The seeker's eyes grew wide and wild. Any lucidity that had once been there slowly trickled away.

"My wing…" he whispered. "They took my wing…"

Starscream then attempted to get up, the wires connecting him to life support machines and IV's growing taut and threatening to break. Knock Out tried to put a hand on Starscream's chest to impede him, and was about to order him to stay still or he'd hurt himself, but Starscream was beyond listening. The mere weight of Knock Out's hand holding him down was enough to make the seeker lash out, swiping a clawed hand at Knock Out's chassis. He was in survival mode now, trying to get out, trying to get to the sky.

"Starscream, stop!" Knock Out cried in desperation. Starscream only responded by fighting back harder, shrieking like he was being devoured from within. Knock Out fought so many flashbacks as he grabbed Starscream's wrists and held as tightly as he could. Even with crippling injuries like his, Starscream still fought him, twisting his body to try and get away. He shot a foot out and kicked over a tray of medical tools, the whole apparatus falling to the floor with a clang almost drowned out completely by the screaming seeker.

Knock Out tried to talk Starscream down, tightening his grip on the seeker's wrists and bringing him to eye level. He said, "Starscream, you have to calm down. Your wing can be fix, but you need to calm down or you'll hurt yourself more." When Starscream tried to pull from Knock Out's grip again, Knock Out shouted, "Stop thrashing, slaggit!"

This only served to spook the seeker even more than he already was, and with one finally twist, the wires snapped free of his body, and Starscream and Knock Out went tumbling to the floor. Starscream shrieked again, directly into Knock Out's audial receptor, and they rang as they hit the floor. Starscream was undaunted in his attempts to escape, but, somehow, through sheer will, Knock Out kept his grip on Starscream's wrists.

It was then he noticed the syringe. It lay on the floor amongst the other scattered equipment from the overturned tray. It was filled with a sedative, something Knock Out didn't normally use because of manual overrides all Cybertronians had for medical procedures. They were generally only for emergencies.

Knock Out decided a hysterical seeker trying to escape the medbay with untreated wounds counted. He let go of one of Starscream's wrists long enough to snatch the syringe up, get the air bubbles out, then jam it into the most available surface - in this case, the arm he still had a hold on.

After tossing the syringe away, Knock Out grabbed the wrist once more, and started counting. Starscream fought him for exactly two more minutes, in human time, before he started losing steam. Knock Out could finally sit up and let the seeker lean against him. Even now, he could hear the barely audible whispering.

"They took my wings…"

Knock Out felt like his spark was breaking. He'd seen some pathetic grounded seekers in his time. Nothing compared to this. "I'm sorry," he found himself whispering back. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it. I promise."

He put his hands on Starscream's shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. At least he could reassure one of them.

* * *

When the screaming finally subsided, the Vehicon finally allowed himself to relax. The eerie, practically oppressive silence in the medbay was hardly reassuring, but at least his star had calmed down.

_I am nothing but a coward,_ he thought to himself. _My star is in there suffering, and after that grand vow to protect him, I'm still here, hiding in the shadows. I don't deserve him._

"Hey, Stalker Steve!"

The sudden shout practically made him leap a foot in the air.

When he composed himself and turned to face the source of the shout, he saw three Vehicons approaching him, whom he recognized as three that worked on Bulkhead's construction crew. One of them, whom everyone called Malcolm, spoke up, and said, "Spying on your delicate seeker love again, Stalker? Hoping that maybe he'll let you breathe the same air as him today?"

The other two laughed. Steve merely frowned beneath his mask, and said, "Shut your mouth, Malcolm."

The Vehicon who had shouted initially, nicknamed Trent, said, "Don't be sassy, Stevey. Pretty sure your precious air commander doesn't appreciate mouthy drones."

The third Vehicon, called Kyle, said, "Honestly, Steve, why do you even care about that puny seeker anyway? The Autobots treat us way better than he or any other Decepticon ever did."

Steve felt a flicker of rage in his spark at the insult to his star, but he tried to keep his calm as he said, "Are you guys forgetting who it was that slagged us day after day. If I recall correctly, it was the Autobots."

"Yeah, and have you forgotten who kept sending us out to be slagged," Kyle said, taking a step towards Steve and poking a finger into his chest. "None of them ever gave a flying frag about any of us, Screamer least of all. We were replaceable, every last one of us. Even if th Decepticons had won, none of that would have changed."

Steve's hands balled into fists. He vaguely realize he was shaking.

Kyle didn't seem to notice as he continued, "Me, personally? I don't give a frag what Magnus does to Screamer. Pit, if it was up to me, I wouldn't have even let that crazy doc have him. Just would have thrown him in the brig and forgotten about him. Hard to imagine the Autobots would find him any more useful than Megatron did anyway."

"Shut up!" Steve couldn't stop himself before the shout erupted from his vocalizer, then gave Kyle a rough shove. The other Vehicon was caught off guard by the sudden retaliation, and stumbled back into his cohorts, who quickly caught him and set him back upright.

"So," Kyle said, his tone low and dangerous, "Stalker Steve is protecting his commander's honor, is he?"

Suddenly, Steve was blindsided by a strong punch to the side of his face. He stumbled backwards, stars dancing in his vision. It took him a moment to regain his senses, and when he did, he saw Trent, lining up another shot. This one landed directly to his jaw, and the force knocked him off his feet.

He hit the floor with a tremendous thud, and a foot started connecting with his abdomen, courtesy of Malcolm. The kick forced all the air from Steve's intakes, in loud, bursting wheezes, and pain shot up his frontal struts. He just knew they were going to break something. A kick from Kyle hit him square in the head, and his optic buzzed with static. He felt something warm trickle from the socket, and he wasn't sure whether he'd rather it be optical fluid or energon.

Then he heard the sound of the medbay doors sliding open, and the blows stopped falling. Through the haze of pain, he heard Knock Out shout, "What in Primus' name are you defects doing?!"

He listened as the three others ran off, their fleeing footsteps echoing through the hall. Knock Out's white and red feet came into view, and suddenly Steve felt himself being pulled up by his shoulders, and brought to eye level with the medic, concern and exhaustion etched into his every feature. He wondered if the medic even recognized him from earlier that day.

He left optic buzzed again, and he let out a pained gasp as it sparked a bit. Fragging Kyle must have short-circuited something. He heard Knock Out sigh, and his arm was pulled over the medic's shoulder. Gingerly, Knock Out led him into the medbay, the doors sliding shut behind them.

* * *

Knock Out was seriously considering a career change as he helped the dented Vehicon on to the next available berth. Or at the very least, going to hide in his room for a few days and not come out until this pounding in his head stopped.

He knew this was the same Vehicon from before - the same hapless, spying Vehicon, and from what Knock Out had heard from the arguing outside, he wasn't the exact sort of spy he'd originally pegged him as. He let out another frustrated sigh as he started examining the poor guy. The dents and scratches weren't deep enough to be soldered shut, and would seal up in time, thanks to his nanites.

He said, "Any trouble seeing? Dizziness? Vertigo?"

It took the Vehicon a few moments to response, but eventually he said, "Um…I think I got a cracked optic."

Knock Out raised an optical ridge. "They look fine to me," he said. And they did. The two red lines were a little scratched, but he figured the Vehicon could take care of that himself.

"Oh…um, well, those aren't really my eyes," the Vehicon said, his quiet, sheepish tone growing even more so. He reached up to the sides of his face, and with a soft hiss, two pressure locks were released. Slowly, what Knock Out thought was the Vehicon - every Vehicon's - face slipped away. Underneath was a milky complexion, that looked unexpectedly young. Two bright red eyes stared back at him, fear evident in them. The glass was cracked badly in the left one, and occasionally it let off painful-looking sparks. Did all Vehicons have faces like this? He wondered if they have different facial features, different scars and quirks and blemishes that they never had the spark to get rid of. He'd been surrounded by them all this time and he'd never known any of them had faces underneath their expressionless masks.

Knock Out must have been staring, but the Vehicon quietly said, "Um, doc?"

Knock Out gave himself a shake, "Sorry," he said, averting his stare. "I just…I never knew those were masks. I just always thought, ya know, mass produced drones and everything."

"That's what Shockwave liked to think about us," the Vehicon said, his small mouth curving up in a smile that faded quickly. "Um…so, I'd…I'd like to apologize for earlier. For, um, well, being such a creep."

Knock Out picked through the tray of medical tools by his side, haphazardly thrown back on after he picked them up from Starscream's tantrum, and stopped to look at the Vehicon, "That was you, huh?"

The Vehicon merely nodded. Knock Out finally found the iron and said, "Well, don't worry about it. If anything, I should apologize to you for the outburst. I had…I thought you were there for a far more sinister reason."

"You mean what's going on with the Autobots," the Vehicon asked innocently. He immediately realized what he'd said, and backtracked, "I mean…I heard about that. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to be so insensitive about it. I just…I heard, and I wanted to make sure that Starscream was, ya know, okay." The Vehicon averted his gaze again. "I…I don't want him to be locked up anymore than you do, sir," he added quietly.

That heavy feeling crept into Knock Out's frame once more. Just hearing Starscream's eventually fate from the mouth of someone else, a neutral party in all this, was enough to make him want to go crawl into a hole and never come out. Knock Out set the soldering iron down with a thud next to the Vehicon on the berth, making the poor guy jump.

"I don't know what to do," Knock Out muttered. He was only vaguely aware of saying it out loud so the Vehicon could here. "I'm just so tired."

"I'm sorry, sir," the Vehicon mumbled. Another beat of silence. The Vehicon seemed to be contemplating. He then softly said, "Maybe…maybe you could use some help? Ya know, another hand around here. I know you're used to it…" The Vehicon suddenly stopped himself, and Knock Out was grateful for it. Despite himself, a small smile curled on his lips.

"I mean," the Vehicon said, "I think I could be useful, if you'll have me."

Knock Out looked back up at the Vehicon, with his young face and his eyes full of hope and slight fear of being turned away and something else that Knock Out swore he recognized, but couldn't quite name. Finally, he said, "I think I will have you."

The Vehicon's face practically lit up, in spite of the broken optic. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I promise I'll help support you and Starscream in any way that I can."

"I appreciate that, drone," Knock Out said. "You can start by calling me Knock Out instead of "sir". Who do I look like, Ultra Magnus?"

The Vehicon snorted a laugh. "In that case," he said, "call me Steve. My optic hurts too much for me to be a simple drone."

"Very well, Steve, let's get that fixed so I can put you to work."


End file.
